Padfoot's Twelve Days of Christmas
by hecatemus
Summary: A festive challenge I have with my wonderful sister and fellow author, Rinnie10, to create 12 little stories on the 12 days of Christmas. Enjoy. And review. UPDATED  Almost  DAILY! COMPLETE!
1. On The First Day of Christmas

Padfoot's Twelve Days of Christmas

Copyright: I don't own any of these characters/scenes/general JKR Universey things.

This is the first day in a challenge I have with my wonderful sister and fellow author, Rinnie10, to create 12 little stories on the 12 days of Christmas. Enjoy. And review.

**Day One**

**On The First Day of Christmas, Potter Gave Me a Bottle of Shampoo**

"What is it?"  
>"It's shampoo Siri" Lily said, looking over her breakfast plate.<br>"Cool!" Sirius beamed. He prodded it with his wand expectantly, "What does it do?"  
>"It's for-"<br>"Wait, don't tell me. I'll guess!" Sirius interrupted. He studied the object closely. Shampoo? He had never heard of the word before, which was odd in itself. Sirius Black; animagus extraordinaire, pilferer supreme, and dedicated marauder, had heard of many things in his life. Yet shampoo was not one of them.  
>"Does it fly?"<br>"No." Lily droned. He looked over, and found her reading a book on Transfiguration.  
>"Am I boring you, Evans?" He smirked. Using her last name really got to her, something Sirius was keen to take full advantage of.<br>"Not at all, Sirius of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black!" The barb stang, but her reddening cheeks gave Sirius the chuckle he was after. And his family was old Pureblood, so he could take the retort for now. He went back to examining the mysterious bottle.  
>"Does it blow up?" He again poked it with his wand, then shot underneath the table.<br>"No, it doesn't!" Lily laughed. Sirius appeared with a sheepish grin on his face, and dust on his hair. He shot a glare at his fellow Gryffindor, but that just made her laugh more. He imagined he must look pretty stupid.  
>"I give up then, what is it?"<br>"It's a muggle way of cleaning your hair! Imbecile, how do you not know that?" She rolled her eyes.  
>"Well Muggles are weird, that's what cleaning charms are for!" Sirius flourished.<br>"Well my parents are Muggle and they aren't imbeciles at all!"  
>"No, but they are Evanses, and isn't it strange how that's almost like the cleaning spell 'Evanesco!' Perhaps if I used it on you, you'd disappear!"<br>They both fell about laughing.


	2. On The Second Day of Christmas

Padfoot's Twelve Days of Christmas

Copyright: I don't own any of these characters/scenes/general JKR Universey things.

This is the second day in a challenge I have with my wonderful sister and fellow author, Rinnie10, to create 12 little stories on the 12 days of Christmas. Enjoy. And review. It makes me feel all fuzzy and warm inside. Like the opposite of a mini fridge. So it'd be a mini oven. But without the burning. Yeah, I should have thought this through more. REVIEW! Haha! Enjoy!

**Day Two**

**On The Second Day of Christmas, Professor Dippet Gave to Me… A Detention?**

"Why doesn't Master Black tell us the answer, seeing as though he thinks he knows enough to sleep in my lesson!" Sirius barely dodged a piece of rogue chalk, as the thunderous voice of Professor Slughorn jolted him from sleep. He didn't have a clue at what was said, and off all the lessons he had, this was the most boring. Damn potions, and damn Slughorn!  
>"I don't know Sir." Sirius tried to sound suitably chastised, a method that usually worked. Sound apologetic, and old Horace was a pushover. He heard James snicker from behind his back. Typical Prongs. Sirius still had the bottle of shampoo, which had come from Potter. He still needed to be pranked for that.<br>Slughorn accepted the apology for what it was and continued an extremely dull lesson on the use of the common nettle in brewing restorative draughts, which left Sirius to scheme. He had almost given up hope when an idea struck him. It was so simple, and so brilliant! He reached into his bag, and pulled out the offending present. He then charmed it to float, carefully sent it to the back of the classroom, then raised it high above the heads of everyone. James was chewing the end of his quill, unaware of the payback he was about to receive. With careful manoeuvring, Sirius managed to get the bottle resting precariously on one of the chandeliers, right above his fellow marauder's head.  
>"Diffindo!" He whispered, sending the cap of the bottle spinning off onto the floor. The shampoo landed with a greasy, wet dollop right in the middle of James's hair! Result! Sirius howled with laughter, and his eyes started watering with mirth. Once more the voice of his potions teacher echoed through the classroom, but he was too busy cackling to notice. It was only several minutes and a quick cleaning charm later that order was restored with the arrival of the Headmaster. Instantly the entire room sat up straight, with the exception of James, who was busy trying to flatten his hair down.<br>"Sirius Black, would you kindly step outside please?" His face was stern, and expression unrelenting. Sirius found himself on his feet before he even realised it, and with a sense of foreboding, realised that this prank may have been one step too far. The door closed behind him, and he turned to face the headmaster.  
>"Now, this isn't the first time you and I have had this talk, is it?"<br>"No sir." Sirius shuffled.  
>"And you know what I think about this endless 'prank feud' with Mr Potter, don't you?"<br>"Yes sir."

"That being said, it _did_ take some precise spellwork to get the bottle on top of the chandelier like that." Sirius's mouth dropped open. Was the headmaster actually paying him a compliment for this?  
>"Don't look so surprised Master Black, I am confident that you are more than a capable young Wizard, if you ever concentrate on anything." A small smile flitted across his face. "As recognition for this, I am going to give you a small gift." Sirius was more confused than ever. A gift? For this prank?<br>"What is it sir?" He asked, letting his mind run wild. Perhaps a rare herb, perhaps house points.  
>"The only thing befitting this behaviour in class Master Black. A detention. With me. Tonight." The young marauder's face fell. "Merry Christmas!" The headmaster quipped.<p> 


	3. On The Third Day of Christmas

Padfoot's Twelve Days of Christmas

Copyright: I don't own any of these characters/scenes/general JKR Universey things.

This is the third day in a challenge I have with my wonderful sister and fellow author, Rinnie10, to create 12 little stories on the 12 days of Christmas. Enjoy. And review. It keeps the chills at bay, and it IS winter! So help a guy out and tell me what you think! I'll even give you a free thingamajic! No jokes! REVIEW! Haha! Enjoy!

**Day Three**

**On The Third Day of Christmas, Lily Evans Gave to Me… Three Single Lilies**

Breakfast that morning found Sirius Black in a right foul mood. His detention with Dippet hadn't gone well at all, and as a result he now had a second to look forward to. He grabbed for a flagon of Pumpkin Juice, and took a long gulp.

"Good morning Siri," Came the voice of Remus Lupin, "You feeling better today?" Sirius barked a response around a mouthful of oatmeal, and left it at that. He wasn't in the mood for small talk. Remus tried to start conversation up for a second time, but a swift glare put an end to that. Still, it was a Thursday, which meant that the first lesson of the day was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Finally a piece of good news!

Sirius walked through the door to DADA with his head in a book, which was uncharacteristically studious for him. James had picked up on it, but he refused to share his reasons for taking an interest to academia. The real reason was that he had developed a charm to turn the text of the book into moving comic strips which only the owner could see.

He sat down at his desk to find a single white flower. Other desks were empty, so he didn't know what to think. He ran a few dark detection spells over it, just in case, and it came back completely harmless. He pocketed it and carried on with the lesson.

Later in the afternoon, on his way to transfiguration, he found a second flower following him down the corridor. It was identical to the first, and bobbing expectantly in the air about a metre in front of him. He took that one too, placing it with the first. This was starting to become very creepy. It was when Sirius found the third one that he started to ask questions in the common room. James and Remus were no help, telling him all kinds of ghost stories involving Peeves and the Bloody Baron. They were interesting, but provided no help in the search for the source of the impromptu floristry.

"Siri! Are you ok?" It was Lily. Again.

"Yes?" a curt response didn't faze her.

"Did you like the flowers I sent?" She was being deliberately cooperative, which unsettled him.

"They were you? I thought I had an admirer. I was kind of hoping on Alice Fortescu! The things she could do with Ice Cream…" he punctuated it with a cheeky wink.

"You know she only has eyes for that Longbottom boy, so why do you even bother!" an exasperated James asked, rolling his eyes and shrugging.

"I just don't know anymore." Sirius replied. He removed the flowers from his bag, and let them float around him. He hadn't noticed before, but they looked strangely like Lilies. He smiled.


	4. On The Fourth Day of Christmas

Padfoot's Twelve Days of Christmas

This is the fourth day in a challenge I have with my wonderful sister and fellow author, Rinnie10, to create 12 little stories on the 12 days of Christmas. Its a little bit silly and a lot of fun, because hey! That's how we roll! Enjoy. And review. Because one can never have too many reviews. They are like presents! So be charitable and give this year! Haha! Enjoy!

**Day ****Four**

**On The ****Fourth**** Day of Christmas, ****A House Elf **** Gave to Me… ****Four Boiled Eggs**

The moon had passed. Sirius had spent the night gamboling around the Shrieking Shack as a hound, chasing a very irritable, and very canine Remus Lupin. He had barked himself hoarse, and ran until he was too tired to move. The morning saw him back in his bed, safe in the towers that made up the Gryffindor sleeping quarters.

His dreams, when they came, were filled with pranks, dares, detentions, and above all, his friends. They four, the Marauders of Hogwarts, were what kept him sane at the moment. His family, the Purebloods that he despised, were teetering on the brink of true darkness. His cousins, Cissi and Bella, were aligning themselves with the Lestranges and the Malfoys. He had heard stories of Lucius's father Abraxas, and it didn't make for repeating. They were beginning to shun him, in favour of greed and power, and he didn't like it one bit.

A loup POP startled him awake. He scrabbled for his wand, but as he reached for it, it flew from his desk with a snap. Only one thing could do that.

"KREACHER!" He yelled, rubbing his eyes in a groggy manner. He was still extremely tired, and not in the mood for any games that the damned House Elf would try.

"Master summons Kreacher?" Came the sour reply. It sounded like it came from the closet.

"Show yourself!" Sirius demanded. The door to the wardrobe opened, and Kreacher shuffled out, holding a plate with four soggy looking grey objects on, and a sock partially hanging over his long, drooping ear.

"Kreacher knows Master Black must be hungry, what with Master staying up all night with his friends." Kreacher droned out, removing the sock with utmost disgust.

"I told you not to mention that where others could hear!" He sat up, running a hand through his hair. He asked himself why had the elf come in the first place, and realised it was to torture him. Had his mother put Kreacher up to this? It wouldn't surprise him if she did, the old battle-axe never missed an opportunity to show her son how different he was, how much shame he brought to the family by being a Gryffindor. "What are you even doing here anyway?"

"Kreacher has made sure that Master is alone, not to worry. Kreacher has made Master breakfast in bed!" Something akin to pride crept into Kreacher's voice, and for a moment Sirius actually felt sorry for him. Then he thrust the plate under Sirius's face, and came eye to eye with the saddest looking breakfast he had ever seen. There were four grey spongy oval shaped, well things, on the plate.

"What are these things Kreacher?" He ventured a poke, and they were warm to the touch.

"Why master, they are eggs! Kreacher has made you four boiled eggs!" A grin appeared on the elf's face and Sirius groaned. He HATED boiled eggs.


	5. On The Fifth Day of Christmas

Padfoot's Twelve Days of Christmas

Today is day five, and we are almost at the halfway point! My lovely sister, Rinnie10 – you should really check her stuff out – and I are going head-to-head to see who can publish 12 days of Christmas! Enjoy it, read it, review it, and make a man happy this year, yeah?

**Day Five**

**On The Fifth Day of Christmas, Hermione Granger Gave to Me… Five Muggle Dentist Appointments**

Why he had agreed to this was beyond him, but the look of Glee on Harry's face when Hermione had suggested it was worth the pain. His godson was happy, and that was something Sirius would do anything to see. Even spend the morning with Hermione's parents. Muggle parents. Who were something called Dentists. He thought it would be easy at first, just a chair and a light, but then Doctor Granger had taken out several metallic instruments and told him to open his mouth.

"A2, fine." Dr Granger said, peering into the dark recesses of Sirius's mouth. Years in Azkaban hadn't done much to his oral hygiene, and though Sirius was aware that his teeth weren't the best, he had never heard of Muggles that spent all day checking them. A woman, whom he presumed was Hermione's mother, repeated what he said, and made a note of something on a little chart.

"Left-side canine, unusually sharp," He chuckled at this, and again the woman wrote something down. Harry grinned in the corner of the room, and Sirius rolled his eyes. "My daughter tells me that you are an Animagus, Mr Black, would I be correct in assuming you are some kind of dog?" Sirius choked on his own breath, and Dr Granger gave a hearty laugh. "There are some of us Muggles who aren't as dull as others. My daughter has told us a lot about Wizarding culture over the years, and when one puts two and two together…" He trailed off as he came to Sirius's wisdom teeth. He _Tssk_'ed under his breath, and the entire room took a deep breath.

"I'm afraid, Mr Black, that whatever passes for dentistry in the Wizarding world has failed to identify rotten wisdom teeth. I'm going to need to remove these over another four consultations."

Sirius, unable to speak properly, audibly screamed.


	6. On The Sixth Day of Christmas

Half way! That means that the peak is in sight, but the climb is that much harder! My wonderful sister, and fellow author, Rinnie10 is powering away whilst I post late in the day!

Don't forget, if you love it, let me know! It keeps a guy motivated, and helps me to improve! Give the gift of reviewing, even if its just a short one! Kthanksbye! Enjoy!

**Day ****Six**

**On The ****Sixth**** Day of Christmas, ****A Mysterious Stranger Sent**** to Me… ****An Invite For A Christmas-Eve Bash**

The bird flew. It was a crisp, bright winters morning, the sun gleamed off the icy planes of landscape that passed underneath the bird's wings. Field gave way to lake which gave way to more hills on it's journey northwards.

It passed over Hogsmeade, a small Wizarding village in Scotland, where children played, levitating large balls of snow to make enchanted snowmen. Then in the distance, it finally saw it's goal. Hogwarts. With the letter grasped firmly in it's claws, it descended past the spires and towers of the Castle, passing the window of a sleeping boy, on it's way to the Owlery.

The boy, Sirius Black, woke up with a spring in his step. It was the first christmas he was spending away from home, and to make him even happier, his friends were staying too. Although christmas was still six days away, Sirius was infected with a serious case of Festivity. He sang carols down the hallway, enchanted mistletoe whenever he saw a pretty girl, and joyously pranked everyone and anyone. Even Peeves wasn't safe, and for the first time in a very long while, it was him who ran away screaming.

The dormitory had become increasingly garish as christmas drew closer, with both Sirius and James trying to outdo each other in decorating the room. Floating Tinsel, Hovering Cherubs who sang christmas carols to any who ventured near them, baubles that occasionally sprouted seventeen identical ones, real icicles trapped in preserving charms, and even mini christmas trees that grew, wilted, died and regrew every day. Remus had taken one look at the room and declared it a frivolous waste of time, effort, and magic. Peter had liked it, adding in his own touch of everlasting snow. The ceiling now resembled the Great Hall, and even Sirius had to admit that it was a spectacular piece of magic.

Sirius whooped as the snow started to fall again, and that roused the others. James grunted and turned over, Remus uncurled himself from his pillow, and Peter - who had been awake for a while - removed his head from a book he was reading.

"Thought you'd like to see the snow again Siri!" He said, putting his wand down on the bed.

"Yeah! You know there's only-"

"Six days left until christmas! We know!" The other three interrupted in unison. James and Remus launched pillows at Sirius, which he swatted away deftly. They all laughed. It was good to be with friends, especially as his family were out of the country for the holidays. There were several Pureblood parties they attended around this time, and Sirius had never cared for them. They were just an excuse for certain families to meet and discuss how they were superior to Muggles. Awful really. Sirius jumped out of bed and went to get ready for the day ahead. He wondered for a second if he was going over the top, but then remembered that he was in Gryffindor, and if there was one thing that Gryffindors loved, it was christmas.

He sat down at the breakfast table with a ravenous look. The food was even more sumptuous during the holidays, probably because the House Elves didn't have to cook for as many people as they usually did. He tucked into a piece of festive bacon, and got a mouthful of stuffing in the middle. The House Elves really had outdone themselves.

"So, I'm thinking that we enchant everyone else's presents to re-wrap themselves, what do you think Siri?" James said as he walked into the hall. Sirius, with a mouthful of breakfast, could only nod. That would be a brilliant prank! He swallowed his food as quickly as he could.

"What about those sneaky snakes eh? Do we have any more tricks up our sleeves for them?" He speared a sausage with his fork and jabbed it forward, "I bet old Slughorn would love to see those smarmy gits get what they deserve!"

"You mean he'd love to see US get what we deserve." Remus countered, calmly placing food onto his own plate.

"Remy, you're always the cautious one. Its the holidays! Slughorn has taken his precious Slug club skiing, so we have free reign!" James said, gesturing wildly. Some beans flew into Peter's hair, which sent Sirius into a fit of laughter.

"We could always wait till the full moon and set you on them. Wipe that smug look right off Malfoy's face!" Peter said, winking at James and Sirius.

"We will do no such thing! I can't believe you w..." Remus trailed off as he saw the looks on their faces, "oh yes, very amusing..." He carried on eating his food.

A deep brown own flew in through the window, circling widely before landing gracefully on the table in front of Sirius. He wasn't expecting any owls from the family, they always had the House Elf Kreacher bring him important missives. No, this must be something else. The owl held it's leg forward expectantly, and gave a low hoot. Sirius took the letter and eyed it over curiously. The writing was elegant and in cursive. He didn't recognise the penmanship. It was addressed to a Master Black of Hogwarts. The owl took some food before flying off for a well deserved rest.

_Dear Master Black of Hogwarts,_

_It is with great honour that I cordially invite you to a special Chariry Christmas Gala on Christmas Eve. The location, for safety and security, is not available at present. This letter will act as a Portkey at precisely 7pm on the aforementioned date._

_You are permitted one guest. This is a Black Robe gala._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_The Host._

Sirius had instantly made up his mind. This looked to be a fancy bash, which his position as a member of the Black household had permitted an invite. There would be ample time for pranking. Sirius Black laughed, this really was going to be a great christmas.


	7. On The Seventh Day of Christmas

Damn Opera Mini! My browser wouldn't let me upload this, so apologies for the delay, but it is here now!

Don't forget, if you love it, let me know! Nothing is better than criticism well received. And it keeps the reviewing moths away, and those things are HUGE! Kthanksbye! Enjoy!

**Day ****Seven**

**On The ****Seventh**** Day of Christmas, ****? Gave**** to Me… ****Seven Christmas Kisses**

The first one was unexpected to say the least. It came when Sirius was leaving a particularly boring Potions lesson. There was a flash of Mistletoe, a smooching sound, and then a feminine giggle. He was left in a bit of a daze.

"James," Sirius started, still completely unawares, "did you see that?"

Chuckling, James simply said, "It's Christmas Siri!"

The second one was wet. Even for a kiss, which Sirius thought were wet anyway, this one left it's mark. A second flash of Mistletoe preceeded the event, just as he was rounding a corner to go to the Quidditch pitch. He wheeled around wildly, trying to spy the culprit, but as before there was nobody to be seen. He wouldn't put it past the Slytherins to try and spell him, making his holidays unbearable, and he had to admit that if it was the Snakes, it was a good way to do it.

The third and fourth happened simultaneously, in the Great Hall. Sirius was tucking into a brilliant lunch. A sprig of mistletoe dropped onto his plate and he received two pecks on the cheeks. What in Merlin's name was going on? He swivelled round with a feeling of severe Deja Vu, and tried spying the culprit. Again there was nothing. The people around him were seemingly oblivious to this repeated action of festive amorousness.

It was late in the day, and Sirius was tired. He had endured another two 'attacks' as he had come to think of them. They had both come from nowhere, and again a sprig of mistletoe had appeared out of nowhere. He had asked James if he knew where his Invisibility Cloak was, but that was safe at the Potter family home.

He was about to enter the Gryffindor common room, when he heard a giggle from a side corridor. It was the same feminine giggling he had heard the first time this mystery kisser had struck. He crept along, keeping flat against the wall. He was about to peer round the corner when a translucent hand appeared, with a...

"Mistletoe! Aha!" He shouted, throwing himself onto the plant. He grabbed it, but his hand went through the arm holding it. "Huh?"

"Merry Christmas Sirius Black!" Moaning Myrtle giggled, giving him a seventh, and very sloppy, kiss.


	8. On The Eighth Day of Christmas

Padfoot's Twelve Days of Christmas

So, it's day eight and boy are things heating up! Or are they cooling down? Lol! Either way, we are getting a lot closer to Christmas, and a lot closer to the end of this. Enjoy!

**Day Eight**

**On The Eighth Day of Christmas, Severus Snape Gave to Me… Eight Dungbombs in My Bed!**

Sirius Black was tired. He had been tired before, but this was completely different. He could feel it in his bones. Weary, he had heard his old Grandfather call it. Weary to his core. Remus's last transformation had been more violent than most, and he had been forced to gambol around the grounds at a ferocious pace just to tire him out. And keep him from getting into the castle. He had then been in lessons all day, and his tutors didn't let up on him. It wasn't easy being Sirius sometimes.

The end of the day couldn't come quick enough. Sirius darted into the Great Hall, ate as quickly as he could, and then traipsed up to the Gryffindor Common Room. People waved at him, trying to invite him into discussion, but he shrugged them off. He needed a bloody good rest. The bedroom, still bedecked in the finest and gaudiest Christmas decorations known to Hogwarts, looked a little different. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but Sirius could tell something was amiss. He contemplated investigating, but a loud, gaping yawn escaped his mouth. No, Sirius Black needed sleep.

He pulled the covers back on his four poster, and time seemed to slow down. He noticed them. Quick as a flash, he counted eight of them, and realised in a detached sort of way that he knew who did this. A stray comment by none other than the snarky git Snivellus had revealed his hand. There was barely time to groan before he was pelted in the face by eight powerful dungbombs.


	9. On The Ninth Day of Christmas

Padfoot's Twelve Days of Christmas

As you can tell, this project has fallen behind schedule, but rest assured that I will have 12 days by Christmas morning. I shall endeavour to make it! As ever, if you like it, favourite it, favourite me – I'm going to put out a fair bit this Christmas – and make sure to leave your quill mark in the Review section. Enjoy!

**Day Nine**

**On The Ninth Day of Christmas, Regulus Gave to Me… Nine Hugs! **

Hugs. Sirius loved them. He loved hugging a pretty girl, loved them from his father, loved giving James, Remus and Peter the odd manly display of brotherhood affection. However, when it was his brother Regulus giving him a manly display of brotherhood affection, he positively hated it. Younger brothers were supposed to be there, in the background, a safe distance away from older, far cooler, siblings. Such as himself. It wasn't like he hated Regulus, but Merlin could the boy annoy you. Like a puppy that was vaguely amusing, and then wouldn't leave you alone.

"Hey Sirius, what are you doing?" It was Regulus. Again. Sirius had a bet on with Prongs that he would not get a minute to himself all day. It was worth five hundred galleons. Right now it was a price worth paying for a moments peace.

"I am trying to arrange a study session. You know I have my N.E. this year, don't you Reggie?" Regulus hated being called that. James sniggered behind him.

"Since when have you started studying for anything?" Regulus countered, brushing an invisible piece of lint from his robes. James laughed harder. "Besides, mother says you are to look after me over the holidays." Sirius sighed. He _had_ agreed to take care of his brother. In reality, he was told he had to, and there was no choice in the matter. The fact that he agreed was more for pride if anything. Sirius was still a responsible member of the Black household, even if he was a Gryffindor. The green on his brother's robes had been a marked relief in his family. One mangy lion they could deal with.

"What would you like; dear brother?" Sirius ground out. A feral grin appeared on his brother's face, and he realised far too late what was going to happen. A pair of arms descended around him, and pulled Sirius into another hug. Regulus had done this too many times today. It had gone far beyond a joke now.

"Regulus Arcturus Black you get your filthy Slyther-" He was cut off by a thunderous peal of laughter from behind him, surprisingly from Remus. James looked like he was chewing a particularly nasty Bertie Bott's Every Flavour bean. Regulus let go, marched up to James, and held his hand out.

"Nine times. I told you, I know my brother." James nodded weakly, and Sirius wondered what in Merlin's name was going on. Then when a large bag of Galleons exchanged hands, it all made cold, sneaky, _Slytherin_ sense.


	10. On the Tenth Day of Christmas

Padfoot's Twelve Days of Christmas

Day ten! Boy has this flown by, like a certain seeker on a Firebolt! I think I like the format of this, putting something out every day. It is kind of cool! The New Year will bring more than a few of these challenges I suspect. As ever, if you like it, favourite it, favourite me – I'm going to put out a fair bit this Christmas – and make sure to leave your quill mark in the Review section. Enjoy!

**Day Ten**

**On The Tenth Day of Christmas, My Parents Gave to Me… Ten Chocolate Frogs a Leaping! **

Tradition. Some families had their own traditions, whilst some were very traditional. Very rarely, a family could be both, but it wasn't very often that occurred. The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black was steeped in more tradition than most Pureblood families. It was very traditional, producing Slytherin after Slytherin for generations. Some said that if you cut a Black open, they would bleed green. However, they also had their own traditions, one of which would be happening today.

It all started at breakfast, as such things in life often do. The remnants of the student body of Hogwarts, and a few teachers besides, were all tucking into a marvellous spread of bacon, eggs, sausage and – of course – baked beans. It was a good morning, a great morning in fact. Sirius had been fastidiously watching the calendar with an eagle-owl eye. In the Black family calendar, today was pretty special. If Regulus was at Hogwarts, he would be just as excited as Sirius, but fortunately for him, he was spending time with mother and father in the south of France. Reggie would have already got his today.

A flurry of owls drew everyone's attention to the window. Missives and gifts were delivered to students, and a few were intended for the staff too, but Sirius couldn't see the off-white colour of the family owl. How could Ulysses not be here today? The post filtered away, undoubtedly back to the Aviary – Sirius simply hated calling it the Owlery – and still his bird was nowhere in sight. He speared a sausage, and tore into it with canine efficiency. How dare his parents forget!

He went through the day unable to think about anything else. Even a game of Seeker's games with Prongs couldn't shift his mood. There was no way his parents could have forgotten. They never had before, and they were the kind of people to always remember such things, even if they hated him belonging to Gryffindor. He supposed that the bird could have gotten lost. It wasn't unknown for owls to make mistakes. But then Ulysses wasn't a regular owl. He was selected for his intelligence and speed. Perhaps he was intercepted on his way? Sirius realised now that he was getting irrational. Who would want to intercept a package intended for a schoolboy?

Dinner came soon enough, much to Sirius's chagrin. It was looking increasingly hopeless. He couldn't even muster up enough of an appetite to eat more than a couple of bites. James commented on spoiling his dessert, but Sirius waved it off. He was in far too much of a bad mood to care.

The mood was broken when a package splashed onto his plate. It looked grubby, ragged, and hastily wrapped. At first he thought that it was an attempt by James to make him feel better, but then he noticed something odd about the grubbiness. It had a certain familiarity that he couldn't quite place. As he was questioning it, the package floated up to his face, where it opened very much like a Howler.

"Sirius Orion Black! How dare you mope around the Castle like some Muggle oaf!" Came the deafening voice of his mother. The entire Great Hall looked on in amusement as she continued, "You have done nothing but bemoan your lot all day, and I shall not have it! It is not enough for us that you are a Gryffindor, but to completely abandon the Black family values at the merest drop of a hat is shameful!" He hung his head and prepared for a further onslaught.

"That being said," The package continued, "it IS Christmas, and there is a very important tradition we must adhere to. Provided you refrain from said acts again, I will not deny you any further. Happy Tenthday my son!" The package spat a brown object out, licking the corner of its mouth afterwards. It landed at the far end of the Gryffindor table, gave a loud _Ribbit_ and leapt off. Several more were ejected before the package tore itself up. The Great Hall was in chaos, which was in itself a backhanded salute to Sirius's Gryffindor nature. His mother, however Slytherin she was, could sometimes show she had a fun side. Ten Chocolate Frogs a Leaping, students and teachers diving over each other to catch one, and Sirius Black laughing like a maniac. He couldn't have planned it better himself.


	11. On The Eleventh Day of Christmas

Padfoot's Twelve Days of Christmas

Onto Day Eleven! Almost there, as they say in the business. The process of writing this has been a little more difficult than I originally anticipated. Every day sounded like a little bit of fun to begin with, and whilst I have been writing every day, meeting the deadline that is publishing has proven more arduous. The payoff however is fantastic, so without further ado, I give you day eleven. As ever, if you like it, favourite it, favourite me – I'm going to put out a fair bit this Christmas – and make sure to leave your quill mark in the Review section. Enjoy!

**Day Eleven**

**On The Eleventh Day of Christmas, Harry Potter Gave to Me… Eleven Golden Snitches! **

Fugitive. The harsh reality bit into him colder than any chill could. Sirius Black was a wanted man across the entire Wizarding community in Britain. His time in Azkaban had done nothing to dull the ache he felt at that. The time he spent there for a crime he didn't even commit. Somewhere, still living, was the true perpetrator, the traitor Peter Pettigrew. A man he had once considered as friend, now servant to the most evil Wizard alive, a good man turned into a murderer and a liar. It made his blood boil that one of the four Marauders would dare to betray one another. Peter was _supposed_ to be a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors damn well didn't sell each other out!

He shuffled around the cave he now called home, adding another copy of the Daily Prophet to the pile he had been collecting. More grim news, if you knew where to read and how to look at what wasn't reported, and Sirius Black knew where to read. It all pointed to one, inescapable, devastating conclusion. He needed to be near to his Godson, but the Dementors could smell him if he dared get too close for too long, and he didn't fancy getting a Kiss anytime soon.

The one surprise he still had left was his Animagus form. The shaggy black dog had charmed the residents of Hogsmeade, and they now regarded him as a lovable stray. The food had helped put some meat back on his bones, and the odd scratch behind his ears made his tail wag. He was still far from content though. The supplies from Dumbledore and the kindness of Hogsmeade, however generous they were, just wasn't enough. He hadn't seen a wand in a long time, and without magic, things were ten times as hard. The cave was a harsh place to be in winter. His solace was that his Godson, Harry Potter, was safe within the walls of the school.

In the corner was the one possession he had managed to acquire, via mail order owl. It was a gift, and had cost him every Galleon he had. Carefully wrapped in plain brown paper sat a top-of-the-range broomstick, the Firebolt. He only hoped that Harry would like it. Turning back into the great dog, he curled up behind a rock, using the fur as a natural blanket, and fell into a fitful sleep.

A faint buzzing sound brought Sirius awake. His hind leg twitched in reflex as he roused, ears pricked and searching for the source. He looked to the ceiling and counted ten, no, eleven shiny things flitting about. He shook his jowls and transformed into his human self. Pain lanced down his legs, and he realised that the sleep had given him a huge case of cramp. The buzzing grew louder, and he looked up to see exactly what they were. Eleven Golden Snitches. They hugged the roof, flying in unison, forming the words MERRY CHRISTMAS PADFOOT with brilliant golden trails. They then gently floated down to varying heights, and hung themselves on a Christmas tree that had just sprung from the ground. As the branches grew thick green spines, a note unfurled from the snitch on top of the tree. Sirius picked it out and unrolled it.

_Sirius,_

_Thought your place could use a little Christmas cheer. The snitches you see are all ones I have caught as Seeker for Gryffindor. They mean a lot to me, treat them well. Hermione helped me with the spellwork, but you probably already know that. I hope this Christmas is better than your last._

_Your Godson,_

_Harry James Potter_


	12. On the Twelfth Day of Christmas

Padfoot's Twelve Days of Christmas

Day Twelve! What a journey! I have given a character that I write so well as a bit-part a complete devotion, and discovered my characterisation was painfully shallow, which is a soul destroying moment. However, the levity must be metered with the meaningful, so without further ado, I give you the final day in this saga, Day Twelve! Late! But still, as the old adage goes, better late than never! If you like it, favourite it, favourite me – 2012 promises to be a fanfic filled fun fest of a year! – and make sure to leave your quill mark in the Review section. Enjoy!

**Day Twelve**

**On The Twelfth Day of Christmas, The Marauders Gave to Me… The Marauder's Map? **

_At the end, he saw Snitches. He knew it was a kindness, but he didn't know how he knew. The sensation was odd, like a bludger was lightly tapping you on the back of the head, calling to remember something in slow motion. Eleven gold Snitches; a happy a memory as any, and the happiest memory Sirius Black had been a part of for a long time. There were others, of that he was sure, but the moment of unbridled joy he had felt, the moment of connection with the only member of his family that _meant_ something to him, that was what filled his heart. What was it Dumbledore always said? To the organised mind-_

Sirius shook his head. The music was dreadfully loud here. Probably a stray Sonorus charm. He gently took another sip of the Champagne canapé and wished he could be back in the Castle with his friends. James would be making great fun at how Padfoot had been hoodwinked into attending a Soiree hosted by the Fudges. From what he could gather, it was a collection of up-and-coming talent within Hogwarts, akin to the Slug Club, but with a view of introducing youngsters to their intended real-world counterparts. Sirius had the honour of conversing with the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, who turned out to be some boor of a gentleman, and the conversation was dull enough to lull him into a light stupor. His head, now throbbing, was still reeling from the sheer monotony of the man.

His plus one had evaded any scrutiny so far, but then Lily Evans was always fantastic at deflecting attention. James had protested when Sirius had posed the question, but after swearing no amorous intent, seemed content to allow it. Sirius suspected it was primarily to do with an icy glare sent his way by said female. He took a step forward, and immediately wished he hadn't. The room around him swam lazily through his vision, a sure sign of inebriation. What _had_ he been drinking?

"Oh Sirius, why do you ever bother at these damned events?" Lily laughed as she walked up to him. Sirius was too busy focussing on not falling over to pay her any attention. Could she not see that he was concentrating?

"I dunno Lil, help me sit?" He blurted, gripping the champagne flute with all he was worth. It shattered. "Dammit!" Sirius shouted, as he clumsily brushed glass off his best dress robes.

_It was the map. It was always the map. The one sign he still had left of friendship, the one symbol of worth that his childhood produced. He looked up at his friends. One was dead, another turned betrayer, and a third afflicted since childhood. Three unlikely people who all had a truly magical childhood together. How the future had changed them. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Marauders of Hogwarts, turned loose on the world._

_They held it out with pride in their eyes. James looked at him and nodded, shaking the map as he did so. "Look," He said, "You should see this before-" Before what, Sirius did not want to think of. He took the map silently, a slight incline of his head in acknowledgment. He stepped forward to open it and tripped. It was an eerily familiar sensation. Like he was falling. _

"Siri! You're drunk!" James called, roaring with laughter as he slumped next to Sirius on the couch, "Remy, Peter, you need to see this!" He prodded Sirius on the arm and watched him sway. Sirius felt sick enough as it was. The last thing he needed was his friends making matters worse. His friends? How did they get here? He blearily opened his eyes to see James sat next to him, and Remus and Peter stood over him, matching smug expressions on their face.

"How di-"

"Lily." James interrupted, "Remus, give him the potion!" Remus forced a vile tasting liquid into his mouth, and he coughed and spluttered. The pain was excruciating but short-lived. He blinked and found his vision to be better, and the dizziness had subsided.

"Sobering Potion?" he spluttered, instantly aware of how dry his mouth was.

"Had to be done mate, you were embarrassing yourself!" Peter said. Sirius felt a pang of something alien, it felt like hatred, but was probably to do with the potion. Damn alcohol and damn these socials!

Sirius affected a lopsided grin, "Me, embarrass myself? What kind of party would it be where I _didn't_?" they all laughed.

Lily ushered them off to a quiet corner, for which Sirius was glad; he didn't feel like explaining the presence of three extra guests, one of whom was a registered werewolf. He loved Remus dearly, but these social circles ran almost entirely on tradition, and it just wasn't _proper_ to be part magical creature.

_The battle raged on in almost mute fascination. Sirius likened it to hearing fireworks from inside the house, a series of dull thuds; as though he was listening through cotton wool. Something had just happened, he knew it, and he could feel it. What was this place? The map would tell him, he was sure, and his friend's reassuring smiles brought him comfort. Opening the map with a tap of his wand, he expected to see the school. What appeared shocked him._

"Siri, we have something to show you, it's- "

"It was really my geniu-"

"We all helped!" Remus finished, shouting over James and Peter. He pulled out a piece of parchment from his pocket, and handed it to him. Sirius knew what it was immediately; he had spent months trying to place all the charms correctly, but nothing had worked.

He looked from beaming face to beaming face and asked "What were we doing wrong?"

"We were applying the tracking charm in the wrong place. You can't have the permanent parchment spell in the same phrase as it, so we improvised." Remus looked particularly pleased, so Sirius guessed it was his idea. Certainly James would never have thought of it, and Peter didn't have a thought of his own, so that ruled him out.

"Shall we try it?" Sirius almost bellowed, excitement slowly taking over him. Not even seeing his cousin Bella could dampen his mood. He cheerily sent a glare her way, almost daring her to come over, then turned his attention back to this wonderful piece of spellwork in front of him. "I solemnly Swear I am up to no Good!" he intoned, almost reverently. The parchment was alight with ink, forming the words 'Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are Proud to Present… The Marauder's Map!'

"It looks good, doesn't it?" James said, elbowing his way next to Sirius.

"Bloody good spellwork, eh James?" Sirius cheekily replied. The map formed, yet it wasn't of Hogwarts. For a moment, he could have sworn that it read 'Ministry of Magic', but then it changed into a perfect representation of the school, and he was lost in the magic.

_It was the moment he had been expecting. A warm handshake and friendly smile. They were waiting for him, all of them, and he knew. He was still falling, wasn't he? The sensation had dulled, but if he really thought about it, he could still feel it faintly. Like an itch that you forgot about. Perhaps if he left it alone, ignored it even, then it would disappear forever. The happy memories he had were fading too, leaving only a feeling of peace. Sirius felt peace. A stag pointed at a point below his feet. There was no floor, and yet a wand lay there, expectantly. He picked it up; it was his. With a wan look, he saw the map. Huge and sprawling, it filled the space behind him, and yet it was faint. Like he was seeing it through a veil. He could make out a shape that could have been him, or Harry, or Remus. The feeling of peace coursed through him, and as he lifted his wand, Sirius wished happiness on what he saw. He pointed it at the map, gave one final smile, and cast._

"_Mischief Managed."_


End file.
